Don't Forget Me
by Kaitipoola
Summary: My version of what happened before Alice was changed. Dr.Brodeman's POV. Read and Review.


Don't Forget Me

Mary Alice Brandon lay limp on the cot.

"Mary," I whispered. "Wake up, Mary."

Slowly, her eyes slid open. At the sight of me, they squeezed back shut again, and she moaned softly. "I know, Mary," I murmured to her. "I'm sorry, you know I am. But I have to follow orders. You have to get better."

Really, these words were placed more to placate myself than to placate my patient. I always felt guilty after letting my assistants treat Mary. To be honest, I had developed a sort of soft spot for her, and watching her writhe in pain during the shock treatments only increased my self-disgust. And in addition to that, the main cause of my guilt:

Mary wasn't responding to treatments.

Why did I put her through the pain when it didn't seem to make any difference? She still had those daily visions of hers, and I had discovered long ago that they meant something. I would always watch her reactions to the visions—since she never told me what transpired in them—and some things were just too obvious to ignore.

One time after having a vision, she burst into sobs. The next day, another of my patients was found dead.

There were pleasanter ones, too, though. Once, afterwards, she smiled. A couple hours later, my assistant announced that he was engaged to be married, and I knew what Mary had seen.

The more I thought about it, the more I knew that Mary wasn't possessed. She wasn't a witch, and she wasn't crazy. She was _gifted_. But the more I thought, the guiltier I felt. And so I tried not to think, and adopted the complacent, uninvolved doctor attitude.

Somehow, though, I think she knew how much I cared.

Mary was young: she was sixteen. She was short for her age, but pretty. Not much by vampire standards, of course, but I had to admit that she was. Her hair was uncommonly dark, black even if you looked close enough. It had been cropped short for convenience; treating her was easier that way. In contrast to her black hair, her eyes were the lightest, softest brown I had ever seen on a human. I rarely got to see these, though. She was usually sleeping, exhausted by so much pain, or she simply refused to look at me.

Every day, I came to visit Mary after treatments. Her cell was pitch black: even with her eyes adjusted, she could only see fuzzy outlines. I, of course, could see her now in perfect detail.

Even now, her proximity was difficult for me. Of all things, being a doctor as a vampire was the most difficult. I had tried other occupations, but none of them were as challenging as this. Being so close to humans—it was hard. But I was helping people, wasn't I?

Mary's blood smelled incredibly sweet…but I was strong enough to resist her.

I was.

I knew that I could never hurt Mary. She was too precious to lose…and besides, I was a doctor! I saved lives!

I am a doctor. I save lives.

"It _hurts_," Mary moaned. My dead heart received a stab of pain.

How could I do this to her?

"I'm sorry," I whispered, too soft for her hear. "I am so sorry, Mary."

Suddenly, Mary began to tremble. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and suddenly her whole body stiffened. I wasn't going to try to pull her out of the vision this time. I took her warm hand in my icy one, and prepared to wait with her…

"Dr.Brodeman?"

It was Lucy, one of the secretaries.

"Coming," I answered as softly as I could, withdrawing my hand gently from Mary's. I stepped outside the cell. "Yes, Lucy?" I asked politely, smiling at her. Her eyes widened for a moment, as she took in my light brown hair and my caramel eyes—but then she refocused.

"There's an applicant for the vacant assistant's position, Dr.Brodeman. James, he said, he didn't tell me his surname."

The corners of my mouth twitched upward at Lucy's brusque manner. "He'll be in the waiting room?" I guessed.

"Yes, sir."

I nodded at her, and began making my way through the maze of off-white halls. Every dark room I passed, I felt worse. How could I think I was helping these poor humans? I was a hypocrite…

I am a doctor. I save lives.

Just as I turned one of the corners, the scent hit me like a freight train. For the love of God, it was a vampire.

A low growl built in my chest automatically. There would be no vampires among my patients.

It took me a moment before I could calm down enough to enter.

When I did so, I was greeted by an all-but-empty room. The vampire sat alone in a corner, reading one of our pamphlets with incredulous amusement. He really was plain for a vampire: not too tall, brown hair…black eyes. He looked up.

"Hello," he said in a friendly voice.

"Hello. My name is Robert Brodeman," I replied cautiously.

"James," said James lazily.

I decided to abandon the niceties. "You can't really be looking for a job here?"

"_You _work here," James pointed out pleasantly.

At my apprehensive silence, he smiled. "Never fear, Robert Brodeman. I never intended to be your assistant here; I only wished to talk with you."

I gestured for him to follow me—he still had not left his seat—and said, "Let's talk then."

He followed me quickly out of the room and through the halls in polite silence. Now and then his nostrils would quiver as we passed one of my patient's cells, but he never stopped or showed any sign of restraint.

Just as we neared my office, though, he paused by a door. I read the sign next to it:

Mary Alice Brandon.

Oh, no.

James' eyes were fierce as he looked at Mary's door—bright and wild with excitement. His nostrils flared, and his lips curved into a smile of wicked anticipation.

_Not Mary_, I thought.

I hissed a warning.

This pulled the vampire from his reverie. Realizing that I was watching, he looked up. His face was suddenly blank of all emotion. "Shall we?" I asked, inserting all of my menace into the words. He smiled once more, showing all of his pointed teeth, and gestured for me to continue.

I sat down behind my desk when we entered the office, and he took the chair opposite me.

"You had some questions," I hinted. He nodded amiably. "I have heard about you before, Robert. And I was…shall we say…_curious_ as to how you live, how you can function here."

I smiled slightly, murmuring, "Are you more _curious _about lifestyle or my occupation?" As I mentioned lifestyles, his eyes clouded over and he smiled beautifically, lost in thought.

"James?" I said.

"Ahh. Well, doctor, I have heard of your lifestyle before, but never this occupation. I don't see how you can do it. I myself"—he chuckled—"enjoy my own _occupation_ immensely."

It seemed like he wanted to keep me talking for some reason; I was growing more wary by the second.

_Not Mary. _

"I care about the patients," I explained, making sure not to reveal my discomfort. I added, "I have no control over what I am—but I _do _have control over my actions."

"Touching," said James pleasantly, but his eyes darkened slightly.

"Hmm," he said, "but don't you ever feel that wild craving? Are you too fond of he patients to recognize your own needs?"

My eyes were probably darkening as well, now. I was thinking of Mary, how sweet her blood smelled to me—how much sweeter it would smell to _him _who never abstained at all!

"I feed off of animals," I replied defensively. "It gives me all of the energy I need."

James seemed to be about to pose another question, but I cut him off: "I apologize, James, and this conversation has been a splendid one, but I must return to my patients." James stood, smiling understandingly. "Yes, the patients you care for so," he mused. "I see. Well, it was quite educational to meet you, Robert Brodeman," –James shook my hand—"And who knows? We may meet again." With that he left my office, also leaving me wondering whether there was a double meaning in his words.

Before I did anything else about this stranger, I went to see Mary. When I entered her cell, I was surprised to see that she was sobbing hysterically. She hadn't gone through any more treatments today…

"Doctor—Brodeman!" Mary gasped when she recognized my shape. "Oh, no! Please don't fight…name is James…you won't let him hurt me…oh, no!" As she kept on babbling, only one word had registered in my mind:

James.

"Mary," I said urgently. "You need to calm down. You need to calm down, sweetheart, and tell me what you saw. I need to know." Never before had my favorite patient revealed anything to me concerning her visions, but now she told me as if we had gone through this exercise for years:

_Dr.Brodeman and another man were out in the forest. They were both visibly angry; their eyes were pitch black. __"You can't have her, James," Dr.Brodeman said, growling softly. __James snarled. "In protecting her, you have killed yourself," he said. "Not all so fond of your precious patients now, are you?" __Dr.Brodeman smiled slightly. "Yes I am," he insisted. "She's safe now, and that's all that matters." __It was only a few moments before James made his move._

Mary was crying once more. "He hurt you," she whimpered. "Please, make it stop."

"Hush, Mary, let me think," I cooed. Comforted a little, she fell back onto her cot. So I would save her. I would save her from being killed by James. He would never be able to get to her…yes, I would do it.

I would turn Mary into a vampire.

From what she had said, I would die for doing it, too. But I wouldn't—couldn't—let anything happen to Mary.

"Come with me, dear," I murmured, taking her warm, soft hand. I held it a little tighter when I realized that it would never be warm again.

She allowed me to pick her up. "Where are you taking me, Dr.Brodeman?" she mumbled, exhausted. "Shhh," I whispered, stroking her short, dark hair. "Don't worry. I'm taking you to a place where you'll be safe."

I carried her out the back entrance of the clinic, and began to run. It was dark outside, but my eyes didn't need light.

"Shut your eyes, Mary," I instructed as we entered the woods. She would probably get sick if she kept them open. The girl complied, but muttered "James," with a warning in her voice. "Don't worry about James," I ordered. "I can take care of myself."

Once we were deep in the forest, I set her down.

_I can do this,_ I thought. There was no gnawing thirst; I had hunted last night.

I unbuttoned the collar of her hospital gown to expose her neck. Her skin was already pale from lack of light: almost as pale as mine. "What are you doing?" Mary asked. I could tell she was nervous from the unsteady thud of her heartbeat.

"You have to trust me, Mary. I would never do anything to hurt you."

She looked at me with disbelieving, narrowed eyes, and I felt another pang of guilt as I was reminded of all of the pointless shock treatments. Of course that was all she would ever remember: the pain I had put her through.

She would never know how much I loved her.

"Trust me," I repeated. She nodded uncertainly, afraid once more. Bracing myself, I brought my fangs down into the soft skin of her neck.

Mary screamed as I bit down. Her blood was very sweet…

But then it was over. My teeth no longer touched her skin, and I was taking quick steps back so that I wouldn't drink from her again.

"I'm sorry," I apologized as she wept in pain. "I did it to save you, Mary. He will never be able to hurt you now…you'll understand someday."

Still, I couldn't help but wonder as I watched her writhing in the agony that I remembered so well.

Had I done the right thing? Would it have been better to let James have her? No, I decided. Mary was too good, too special, too important to be killed in such a senseless way. And I had done what my occupation dictated: I had helped her escape death.

I am a doctor. I save lives.

This would be the last life I ever saved, I knew. James would kill me for taking his prize, and then he would keep on killing innocent humans without a second thought about it. But at least I had saved Mary. At least he couldn't have her.

Mary was the last person who would see me before I was killed, I realized. She needed to remember me: how much I had cared about her, what I had done for her. How I had saved her. I stooped over my last patient's writhing body to kiss her forehead.

"Don't forget me, Mary Alice Brandon," I cried. "Please, don't forget me."

And with that, I ran off into the night to meet my fate.


End file.
